Ascencion
by NayanRoo
Summary: An ancient technology, a destiny not their own.  How will our dear players behave when they're cast into an awful game, where the prize for victory is a throne, and the cost of defeat death?  Anakin/Padme, AU.
1. Chapter 1

They stood on the brink, and the world burned around them.

It burned in Anakin's – no, Vader's lungs, but with a thought he used the Force to dull the pain, to open his airways, to send strength to his muscles. He ignored the sting of embers brushing his skin. This moment here, this was what he had been born for, the tides of destiny sweeping him and all those involved with him inexorably toward this very point. And now his vision was focused too, almost literally slimmed down to a point. His galaxy had narrowed to himself, the man up-slope from him, and the space between.

"You underestimate my power!" he called out. The look in Obi-Wan's eyes grew desperate as he realized what his former friend was about to do.

"Don't try it, Anakin!"

_Flash._

Vader jumped. Obi-Wan killed him.

_Flash._

Vader jumped. Obi-Wan cut off his limbs, left him burning on the solidified lava. Left him to die.

_Flash._

_Flash._

_Flash._

Vader jumped. His lightsaber drove into Obi-wan's chest and came out the other side. His old Master didn't have time to give voice to whatever last words he could have spoken. He was dead before he hit the ground – or rather, before his clothes and lightsaber hit the ground.

Vader shut off his own lightsaber, swaying on his feet. He felt inexplicably exhausted, as though-

As though he'd just fought and killed the only father, the only brother he'd ever known.

_As long as Padmé lives_, Vader thought as he began the hike back to the mining buildings. _It will be wroth it. Everything will be worth it._

He did not look back as Obi-Wan's clothes burst into flame.

* * *

Threepio had moved Padmé into her ship and stabilized her in the med bay. On his way to the cockpit, Vader stopped in, brushed his fingers over her cheek almost curiously. Anakin Skywalker would have been beside himself with worry. Anakin Skywalker would have been horrified to see the bruises blossoming on her throat. Darth Vader merely ascertained she was alive, and there were strong vitals from her and her womb. That was all that was important in this moment.

"Ani?"

He paused. The world where Padmé could call him by that name seemed far removed from this moment, though he had just been that man not hours ago. He heard his wife stir under the thermal blanket. "I'm here, my love."

"Ani..." he turned and saw she was trying to sit up, one hand brushing the bruises appearing on her throat. There was a small, distant twist in Vader's gut. He had put those there. "Anakin, I'm afraid."

"Don't be," he said. "Everything is now as it should be." Vader pressed his hand to her forehead, letting the Force flow into her. And then he felt it; not one, but _two_ tiny presences inside her. Two little flickering lights in the Force that carried parts of his beloved wife, and parts of the man he had been.

That brought a strange satisfaction, one slightly removed as though it was happening to someone else. It seemed right that a part of his old self survived.

Then the sensation was gone.

Something must have shown on his face, because Padmé's voice was worried when she spoke. "Is something wrong?"

"Twins," he breathed. "You're carrying twins." Vader shook his head. "But what's important is that you rest now. You'll need your strength." He pressed the Force into her again, and watched as she dropped into sleep.

* * *

Sidious sat back, a very pleased smirk on his face.

"So," he said to the darkness of his office. "It worked."

* * *

When he brought Padmé's ship out of hyperspace near Coruscant, Vader was momentarily thrown by the sheer number of warships around the planet.

"My master must have called back half the fleet," he murmured. "Probably worried about lingering Separatist sympathizers, and..."

As he watched, another ship came out of hyperspace nearby. Even at this distance, Vader could see the distinct markings on the delta-shaped starfighter; this was a Jedi vessel. Vader's lip curled; the Jedi had betrayed his master and plotted against him, and worse, they would have let Padmé die. Well, that had all changed, hadn't it? This was a diplomatic vessel and thus had no weapons, nor was it nearly agile enough to take on the starfighter even if it had had armament, but he was in the middle of the Navy, and wouldn't have to lift a finger. The nearest cruiser, one now painted slate-gray rather than bearing the red stripe of the Republic, had dispatched several small fighters. Vader turned on the comm, tuning it to a wide band frequency.

"_Is there anyone who can assist? Repeat, this is Jedi Knight—_"

The fighter took a hit to her engines and lost control. The comm came alive with the pleas of the doomed Knight as she spiraled toward the atmosphere of the planet, culminating in a long, agonized scream as the oxygen in her cabin ignited—

"Turn it off!"

Vader cut the feed and turned to see Padmé leaning on the doorway, one hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, not meaning it but trying to slip back into that persona that had once been Anakin Skywalker. Padmé wasn't ready for who he was now, not just yet. "You shouldn't be out of the med bay."

"I'm all right," she sat in the copilot's seat, hands supporting her big belly. Vader stared at her, trying vainly to rouse some kind of emotion other than possessiveness and failing that, shrugging it off dispassionately. The bruises on her neck didn't bother him, either, as much as they had before. He had done this, sure, but it had only been because of Kenobi's interference, and Kenobi was gone now. He wouldn't have to worry about Padmé leaving him ever again. And when their children were born, everything would be perfect.

They were both silent as Vader transmitted code clearance to Coruscant's central control – and got his master instead. It seemed that he'd been anticipated, and Vader smirked, just a bit. He could now feel the thick, cloying presence of his master, and when the holoemitter beeped, he thumbed the appropriate button. The hologram that popped up wasn't the quarter-size full body, but rather a near life-size bust. "Darth Vader," the new Emperor intoned. "I trust you carried out the mission as ordered."

"The Separatists remain leaderless, and Kenobi is no longer a threat," Vader replied, ignoring Padmé's sudden look. "The last hope of the Jedi is gone."

Padmé made a noise beside him. His master nodded inside the shadows of his cloak. "Good. You have done well, Lord Vader. And—" he paused. "I sense Senator Amidala is with you."

"I believe," Vader said, "You may call her my wife."

"The Lady Vader, perhaps?"

"Skywalker," Padmé said sharply. "Senator Padmé Amidala Skywalker. I _am_ still Senator?"

Vader glanced at his wife. He was no longer known by that name; soon she would have to accept his new name and title, and the new, reduced status she would have compared to being a Senator in the Republic.

Palpatine looked amused. "Very well. I am sending beacon coordinates to you now. Report immediately after landing, Lord Vader."

"My wife requires medical attention," Vader replied. "I'm taking her to the medical facilities first."

"You will do as ordered." Palpatine's voice carried a bite to it now. "Do you understand?"

Anger roiled in Vader's chest, but he gave a curt nod and set the ship to follow the beacons in. "As you wish, Master. Vader out."

The hologram flickered out of existence and Padmé looked at Vader, confused and hurt.

"Are you still the man I married?" she asked, and her voice was unsteady. The part of him that was still Anakin, still the Jedi who had had no idea how to court a Senator but the fierce drive to do so, clawed to the surface.

"Yes," he whispered. Padmé smiled.

"Good," she said quietly. In that moment, Anakin subsided, and Vader binked, then set his mouth in a tin line.

One more thing to work on – after he'd made sure Padmé would never leave him again.

* * *

"The clones are mopping up whatever Jedi they find," Sidious was saying. "Doubtless many that remain will band together, thinking there to be strength in numbers. This will allow us to seek them out more easily. The Empire may be young, but she is strong, and she inspires... _loyalty_ among those who serve her."

"When will you teach me Darth Plagueis' techniques?"

Sidious glared at Vader. Barely a whole day into his new power as Sith Lord, and already he was proving much less tractable than he had been even when a Jedi. "All in good time, my apprentice," he drawled. Time was something they now had in abundance, after all. "We must provide a stable future before we can think about matters of the present. You _do_ wish to permanently secure her safety?"

The result was laughably predictable: Vader nodded sullenly. "That is why I came to serve you, Master. I will wait."

_But not much longer_, was the unspoken conclusion. Sidious ignored it. "You both have been through a great ordeal," Sidious purred. "How does she fare?"

"She recovers. The twins will be born within the week, the medics say."

"And they are the best. Presumably why you deliberately disobeyed my command." Sidious paused. "_Twins_, you say."

"A boy and a girl." Unmistakable pride. Vader had ever been as easy to read as a youngling's reader. Still, it wasn't unwarranted in this case. Force-sensitive twins were quite special.

Sidious nodded. Pleasing news, indeed. "Your offspring will be quite strong, Lord Vader. I will watch them with much interest when they are grown and in training."

Something in Vader tensed and darkened – those had been the same words Palpatine had told him, a boy fresh out of the desert with the sand of his home planet still shifting around his boots. "Their care and training in the Force will be my responsibility," he said. "I can train them just as well as the old Masters."

"Of course. A father's prerogative, and surely the only way to take care of it now that there are no others left to instruct them save yourself and I." Sidious knew he would have to get one of those twins when they were old enough, after he had properly judged their talent and gotten it around Vader. Only the best would have the honor of training under him. But Vader was already possessive, and despite that he was such a simple boy, some things didn't escape him. Sidious knew that Vader knew that he wanted one of the Skywalker twins for his own ends. He had to keep his apprentice mollified, or at least occupied, in the meantime while his offspring grew.

"As a reward for your actions at the Temple and Mustafar, I hereby award you the position of Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy. It will be your duty to oversee all matters of military action. You will need to act with initiative where I do not guide, and heed my orders when I give them to you. You will be my arm, the executor of my will."

"I am honored, Master."

"Now go and see to your wife. Arrangements will be made at the best hospitals here for when her time comes."

Vader bowed – a hair too short, Sidious noted. "Very well, my master," he replied, and swept out of the room.

Sidious smiled as the door closed behind him. Things were now in motion once more, and this time, there was nothing in his way.

* * *

"Why can't we go to Naboo?"

Vader set his datapad down. He'd been trying to wrap his mind around this project of his master's – some massive space station being designed by a bunch of scientists – and now Padmé was nagging him about _this_?

"It's not safe yet," he replied, as though talking to a child. Padmé drew up short at his tone, and he felt the ripple of her displeasure.

"What do you mean, _not safe?_" she demanded. Her voice was still rough from the treatments the med droids had done on her throat, or perhaps it was because of the strain on her since Palpatine's revelation, or of seeing her husband change so abruptly into someone she barely knew. Vader angrily shoved that last thought away. She would adapt when she saw all this was for her, and their children. Padmé was smart. She would understand.

"There are still Separatists and Jedi roaming about, who knows—"

"The droids were shut down," Padmé shot back. "You did it yourself!"

"All right then, the Jedi—"

"_Stars_, Ani, _your children_ will be Jedi!"

"They will be what I make them to be!" Vader's voice rose as he did, anger roiling the Force and making some of the small items on the end tables rattle. Padmé drew back, hands protectively over her belly and fear in her eyes.

Fear of _him_.

Vader stopped, forced himself to calm, to some semblance of composure. Anakin Skywalker wouldn't rattle the things on the table in such a manner. And besides, he would not have her look at him that way.

"We don't need the Jedi anymore," he said, voice still tightly controlled. "We have all we need to train our children to be great. The galaxy will be perfect when they're born and my Master makes the Empire safe." He paused, posture slumping, then said quietly, "Please don't look at me like that."

Padmé seemed to relax a little, but still turned away from him. "I can only hope you're right," she whispered. "For our childrens' sakes, I hope you're right."

"I _am_ right," Vader murmured. "I must be."

Padmé was silent at that. Then she sighed, and turned to face him, and there were tears in her eyes. "I don't know what to do, Ani," she whispered. "I've loved democracy since I was a little girl, and serving in the Senate was something I always wanted to do... but more than that... I love you. Now everything's changed, it's falling apart, I—" her fingers went to her throat. "I don't know you for the man I married, I don't know these new faces Palpatine surrounds himself with, I hardly know anything anymore."

"Padmé..." Vader rose. Seeing her so distressed did not make him as upset as it used to, but nonetheless he preferred her not to cry. "I am still here, and I will not leave you. I did all this to keep you safe, so we can have our family. That's why we can't go to Naboo to have the babies. It has to be here."

"You did all this for me." Padmé gathered her thoughts a moment, then looked him right in the eye, and Vader involuntarily drew back at the edge to her gaze. "Is that why you accused me of infidelity and tried to kill me, too?"

She turned and left, retreating to the bedroom. Vader stayed out much longer, lost in thought. Eventually he must have fallen asleep, because he woke up to morning light streaming into his eyes, and an empty apartment.

* * *

"I do not think Vader can be trusted, Majesty."

Palpatine took a moment to gloat. The smart ones – and the imbeciles who followed them – had been quick to adapt to the new status quo in his Empire. Though Mas Amedda may have been quick on the uptake, he certainly wasn't in the first group. It was always good to keep the smart ones at arm's length, after all.

"Of course he can't be trusted," Palpatine replied with mock patience. "Sith do not, as a general rule, trust."

"His motivations are what worry me, Majesty. He's obsessed with his wife."

"A fact that I will continue to manipulate, I assure you." The Emperor leveled a glare at his advisor. "I am not new to this game, Amedda."

"Of course not, my lord. I didn't think—"

"That much is obvious." Palpatine turned his chair to look out across the government district. "I will keep him on a very tight—"

"Master!"

For a heartstopping moment Palpatine was certain Vader had overheard them – the amount of rage boiling off him was certainly enough to warrant it – and he worried briefly that the boy would get it into his head to attack him. But one simply couldn't assume things with Vader. He had a habit of being unpredictable.

"Lord Vader," Sidious replied mildly. "Is something the matter?"

"Padmé has _left_ me," the other snarled. "She left without my permission."

"Without her husband, who sacrificed so much for her? Curious, indeed." Sidious feigned surprise, though Amidala's actions didn't in the least startle him. She'd always been as impetuous as her husband, though with a good dose more of sense, and the brains to back it all up. "Though perhaps, the approach of her due date has rendered her mind... addled."

Vader's glare was as sharp as a new vibroblade. "Padmé is not feeble-minded," he hissed. "But it is not safe. I must go after her and ensure her well-being."

"Lord Vader." Sidious' voice became hard as ferrocrete. "That is not wise. You must remain here and help me secure the government against further depredations by the Jedi and the Separatists. I'm certain you know that there are Senators who yet sympathize with our foe."

"And there are still Jedi out there!" Vader yelled, gesturing out the window. "Heartless beings who wouldn't care if Padmé and our children _died!_"

Sidious stood, letting his full power loose to slam against his apprentice. "You will stay," he hissed, as Vader stumbled back as though from a physical blow. "Or you will face the consequences."

Vader's eyes were gold and sickly orange when they met his master's, and it was only by sheer will that Sidious remained unmoved by the instinctual reaction; Vader, at this stage, was an untamed predator, a killer not yet brought to heel, and he was angry. "If I stayed here and she died," he growled, "Then all this would have been for nothing. All the Force can't bring back to life what's already dead."

In a swirl of black cloth, he was gone, and Palpatine slumped to his seat heavily, perspiration on his wrinkled brow. He was angry, wrathful at the sheer insubordination and yet exhilarated by the power Vader had shown. If this was raw, unpolished Dark Side ability, by the time the last vestiges of Jedi discipline had been swept clean, he would have the perfect weapon with which to control the galaxy.

If Vader _could_ be controlled. Even with certain tools at his disposal, the Sith Lord wasn't entirely sure that anything could be done in the face of that powerful emotion.

"Should I order him stopped?" Amedda asked. Palpatine, pulling the hood of his cloak up, shook his head.

"Let him take a ship and leave," he ordered. "Lord Vader will be punished upon his return, but let him go for now."

"As you wish, my lord."

Palpatine smiled as he saw one of the confiscated Jedi starfighters leave the Imperial hangar. _What will you do, Vader?_ He thought, _when what you are is too much for the one you love?_

* * *

The lake country of Naboo was a place Vader knew well, and could get to unnoticed. He and Padmé – or rather,_ Anakin_ and Padmé – had spent a lot of time in this area,, and most of the memories he had here were good ones. Although now, they seemed like a lifetime away, as though they had happened to someone else. Perhaps they had.

This was a different world now. In the light of Palpatine's rise to power, the atmosphere in Theed was decidedly tense. Vader landed near Padmé's ship, and strode out onto the landing pad. "I need to know where the Senator went and when," he demanded of the first flight tech unfortunate enough to cross his path. Putting the weight of his mind on the poor woman and his hand at her throat, lifting her bodily off the ground, Vader narrowed yellow-flecked eyes. "Tell me _now_."

Terrified, the tech babbled a moment before finding her voice. "East from Theed," she said, face bloodless pale. "Not eight hours ago."

Vader dropped the tech and strode toward one of the for-rent landspeeders. Ignoring the stricken vendor, he got in and sped off.

The house by the lake was just as beautiful as it had been on his wedding day, over three years ago. But that wasn't what Vader saw as the launch he'd taken to the island docked beside the one already there. Inside, he could feel the presence of several people, one of them Padmé. He could also feel the tickle that came from his children, and lengthened his stride.

"Padmé," he called as he rounded a corner – and there she was in a room surrounded by attendants, and she was on a table – j_ust like my dreams._

"No!" he bellowed, and before he could think his lightsaber was in his hand and he was slicing through the droids trying to get to Padmé, shoving people out of the way—

"Anakin, _stop_! What are you _doing_?"

Rage still coloring his vision, Vader's head nonetheless snapped up at the sound of Padmé's voice, and saw she was sitting up and staring at him incredulously. "What is all this?" he demanded.

"Just getting a health check – they were going to induce labor. Anakin—"

"No, this has to be done naturally," Vader snapped. Why it had to be, he wasn't sure, but the prompting of the Force had driven those words. And he'd grown up on Tatooine around women giving birth almost without assistance or even basic pain medication. Whatever the reason, it was imperative to him, but Padmé fixed him with an icy glare, and the part of him that was yet Anakin Skywalker recoiled from the anger of his wife.

"I don't think you get much say," she replied frostily. "These are _our_ children, but they're in _my_ body, and right now—" for only a moment her expression slipped into one of pain, then back "—I don't think you should be here, around them."

"What did you say?"

"I said, I don't want you here!" Padmé rarely yelled at him, and so it came now as a shock. "Not until we've had time to talk about what's going on and when I've found you again."

"You want to talk?" Vader took a step into the room, and the techs all drew back. "We have all the time we need _right now_."

"What's _happening_ to you?" Padmé blurted out, voice breaking on tears. "It's like I barely know you anymore! First the Temple, then running off to Mustafar, and-and—" her fingers went to her throat, the bruises still livid there, and she squeezed her eyes shut against tears. "And Obi-Wan never came back—"

"Don't talk to me about him," Vader snarled. "He wanted to manipulate you against me, separate me from my children—"

"_Our_ children—"

"He wanted them to grow up under the lies of the Jedi—"

"Anakin, you _are_ a Jedi! Or at least you were, because I refuse to believe you'd put our family in danger by falling!"

"Don't call me that!"

"What, a Jedi? The man I married, he _is_ a Jedi, a hero. If you're not him, who are you?"

Vader glared back at her, though the acid in her voice stung. "I'm still your husband," he said at last. "But the Jedi are gone. We can live openly as husband and wife now."

"Is that why you did all this?" Padmé's eyes were full of tears now, though her voice didn't crack again. "For that selfish – don't look at me like that, it's selfish." She paused. "What happened to your eyes?"

"They are evidence of my new power," Vader answered sullenly.

"They're like—" Padmé suddenly stopped, an odd expression on her face. Then she cried out. Some of the monitors around her began beeping insistently. One of the medics bent over her, and panic rose in Vader again, rising higher as a stain began to spread down her shift.

"Padmé?" he said, not bothering to contain his voice anymore. "Padmé, what's wrong?"

"Sir," one of the other medics said nervously. "Sir, the stress has sent her into labor. We need to move her to the birthing room, all our equipment is there-"

"I can walk," Padmé insisted, as Vader slid arms under her legs and shoulders. He did sway a moment – she was a lot heavier than the last time he'd done this – but got his balance and followed the medics directing him into a room they'd designed for this birth. Now that it was upon them, their previous quarrel was momentarily forgotten.

"She's early," Vader said, worry and fear creeping into his voice. "She's at least a week early."

"Shouldn't be much of a problem," the medic announced, more comfortable now that he was back in his element. "She's far enough along. She'll be fine."

The whole process didn't make it seem fine to him. Padmé didn't need to be a Force-sensitive for her pain to resonate with him, at least until the medics administer a hypospray to deaden the pain. Vader's fear grew with every whimper Padmé made, and the Force presences of the twins began to echo that too, fear at the strange new world they could sense just a short distance away, fear emanating from their father.

Padmé's grip on Vader's hand was tight, her brow sweaty and flushed. "Promise," she gasped.

"What?"

"Promise me," she continued, "You won't leave us."

"Vader creased his brow. "How could I leave?" he replied. "I have you and the children..."

"You left me once, and when I found you—"

"Push!" the medic ordered, and Padmé's hand tightened even more, face scrunching up as she strained.

"Just one more, I can see the head—"

One push later, a long, healthy cry filled the room. The medic cut the umbilical cord and wrapped the squirming, crying newborn in a soft cloth, and gently transferred the whole bundle to Vader's arms. "It's a boy."

"A boy," Vader repeated, fascinated by his son. The eyes were pale, crystalline blue, the color of the Tatooine sky at the horizon. _His_ eyes, that man who Vader had abandoned.

Padmé struggled up to her elbows, chin tilting up. "Let me see him," she panted. "Let me see Luke."

It was a good name, and Vader nodded to the recorder droid to confirm. "Luke Skywalker," the droid repeated. "Born at 2023 on..."

But neither parent was listening, as Padmé brushed her fingers along Luke's damp cheek, an exultant smile on her face. "Oh, Luke," she murmured. Then the labor pains began again, and the whole process repeated itself until another infant, a baby girl, was handed to Padmé.

Things happened in a flurry immediately thereafter; the afterbirth was delivered and disposed of, Padmé was given a sponge bath and the table was tilted up somewhat, allowing her to nurse the twins in turn. And when they were done, Vader got to hold each, his eyes bleeding back to blue, so happy he was to be able to hold his children in his arms. After three years of war, after the last horrid three days – had it only been three days? - It was comforting to know he could do something other than destroy and kill. All that slipped away as who he had been came once more to the fore of his mind, and he could be Anakin for his family.

And Padmé was so happy, so relieved to see a glimpse of the man she'd married, that she put off the discussion she'd planned, and tried only to sleep comfortably in their bed, her hand clasped tightly in her husband's. Between them, the twins that were the future of the galaxy slept, knowing only that they were loved.

* * *

Palpatine himself waited on the landing pad when they returned, surrounded by the Red Guard. They may have towered over him, but it was the stooped man who commanded Vader's attention the moment he was off the ramp.

Shifting Luke in his arms, Vader turned to Padmé. "Take the children back home. I have to speak with my Master in private, and I don't think it'll be pretty."

Three weeks away from Coruscant had improved his mood; three glorious weeks on Naboo with Padmé and his children, cementing the bonds he had with them and doing what he could to repair his relationship with Padmé. The twins were distinct personalities, distinct presences, and yet there was a subtle blur between their minds. Vader had spent the better part of his impromptu vacation playing with them, learning the things that made them different and reveling in the ways they were alike.

But that was all secondary now; Vader knew he'd crossed his master by leaving Coruscant, and now he would have to pay whatever price was exacted from him for it.

Padmé's eyes were worried, but she gestured her faithful attendant forward and Vader reluctantly transferred Luke to the woman, unable to resist stroking the soft blond hair on his head.

"Ani..."

"Shh. I'll be back to you when I've done this."

"You'd better. I'm _not_ doing this alone."

"We'll never be parted now," he said emphatically, and kissed her. It felt heady, to be finally able to do this in public. "I promise."

Padmé smiled at him uncertainly as she and Dormé made their way to the waiting speeder, but Vader had already started over to his master, knowing he'd delayed much too long. He could sense tightly controlled anger from Sidious, and set his jaw. Padmé made everything worth it, and now he could face whatever the Emperor wished to punish him with. He knelt, five paces from his master, and bowed his head.

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

* * *

The cell was cold, crackling with Dark Side energy. Sidious stared dispassionately at his apprentice, still twitching on the floor from the shocks. "You disobeyed me," he said. "You disobeyed my order to remain at Imperial Center in favor of running off to _Naboo_."

Vader said nothing, only lay still on the plascrete, breathing heavily. Sidious considered another dose of lightning, but decided against it for now.

"I wonder if you place your wife above your devotions," he mused aloud. "Perhaps I should have her removed to somewhere else where she won't be such a distraction."

When Padmé was invoked, it was almost pathetically easy to get a reaction. Vader's head snapped up, orange-red eyes glaring "No!" he cried out. "Master, please – you know—" he sagged against, muscled shaking from intense abuse and lack of time to rest and repair. "You know I can't be without her. You know she's why I abandoned everything I had before."

"Yet her children bear the name you left behind," Sidious retorted. "Luke and Leia, heirs to the name of Skywalker—"

"It was Padmé's wish!"

"_Do not interrupt me!_" Lightning crackled ominously around Sidious' hand, but he did not release it. "It is just as well they do. It will be a household name for a while longer."

"Master..."

Vader's resilience was commendable, Sidious thought idly. Another factor to test; it would provide a good idea of the same trait in his offspring. The two things anchoring Vader to his past.

"Master, I beg you – leave Padmé alone. Leave my twins alone. I will do anything you ask of me."

"Including heed my orders?"

Vader hesitated, then nodded, struggling to one knee. "I will not do this again, Master."

"See to it that you don't, Lord Vader," Sidious said. "Stray too far, and you will not like the consequences. Rise."

Vader swayed when he made it upright, but stood resolute, yellow flecking in his eyes. Sidious gestured and the door slid open. They walked through it.

"My Empire will require a great deal of effort to secure," Sidious said, the stick he walked with now clicking on the floor of the detention block. "There are many instances of unrest in the wake of the wars; the Separatists may be gone, but the divisive spirit remains, even in the Senate."

"Do you wish me to quell this as I did on Mustafar?"

The problem with Vader, Sidious thought, was that he was entirely too blunt an instrument; good for large, sweeping action but useless on the finer details. The boy simply didn't have a single subtle bone in his body. "In the Senate? I think not, my friend. They are not openly rebels, not yet." He raised a withered finger to his lips in thought. "They will require a certain finesse when being dealt with."

He could easily sense Vader's trepidation. "Master... are you sure that they should be handled so lightly? They speak in dissent of you."

"Your wife is one of them."

That made Vader clench his jaw. "I know she doesn't like the Empire now," he admitted. "But she will soon see it's what's best for her and for Luke and Leia."

"I hope so," Sidious replied, in the tone he'd often used with Anakin-that-was, one laden with doubt. "I would not want to see something untoward happen to her."

"I will speak to her when I return home."

"May I suggest," Sidious said delicately, "That you and yours take residence in the palace upon its completion? I had intended a suite of rooms for you in any case, bu the plans can be expanded to include your family."

"That—" Vader actually slipped back into that bovine-eyed youth from the Rim. "That's very generous of you, Master. I would discuss it with Padmé first, though..."

"The plans must be altered quite soon," Sidious interjected silkily. "Before construction begins in earnest."

Vader hesitated, then nodded. "We would be honored."

"It is but a recognition, long overdue, of your loyalty to me. And think of it – there will be no safer place in the galaxy for your family. Your children will have the very best."

Vader appeared to relax at this. "No less than they deserve."

"Certainly." They stepped into one of the many turbolifts that led to the public levels of the Senate building. "As the son and daughter o the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy, they will deserve much... as the children of my protege, they will deserve even more."

* * *

Vader may not have had the ability to play the games that his master could; may not have had the finesse to plot. But he knew when to be wary. All the warnings that he'd been given during his indoctrination by the Jedi still roiled about his mind.

_Not to be trusted._

_Liars out of habit_.

Vader didn't doubt that his master wanted Luke and Leia for some purpose, whatever it was; he also didn't doubt that they would need to be kept safe while the Empire was being secured – and while they were most vulnerable to his master's influence. But for now it was time to go home, and try to be Anakin Skywalker for his wife.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure how long he could keep up the act. Though that man had come out when his children were born, the part of him that had been that man was walled up deep inside, burned by too many betrayals, too much use for this or that end. And on top of that was a curious sort of disjointed feeling, as though he ought to be elsewhere. Perhaps it was an effect of Light meeting Dark, he thought. It was something to look into at any rate. He couldn't afford a lack of focus, not when the board had already begun to move. Not when he had a family to think of, a family he'd sacrificed everything for.

But ultimate all this was for the better, Vader thought. He could openly be with his family, not slink around in the shadows as though this love was shameful. He could finally tell everyone that he alone had won Padmé's hand. He was the father of her children.

When he pulled his speeder up to the balcony, he was greeted by Padmé with Leia in her arms. The infant's eyes had begun to darken now from their original blue. He figured they'd be the same shade as her mother's – and with a smile, he took her in his own arms and held her close. She grinned a toothless baby grin, grabbing onto his tunic to keep herself close. Her brother was stretched out on a blanket, grabbing for brightly-colored toys that Artoo kept just out of his reach. Much to Vader's surprise, Luke actually looked up and focused on him when he came closer. Those eyes would never darken; they'd always be that bright blue.

"They're already getting big," he murmured, setting Leia beside her brother. "Barely a day away and it's like they're already grown."

Padmé slipped her arm through his. There was still a tension in her movements around him. The bruises on her neck had faded, but they may as well still be livid purple. That betrayal might never be forgiven. "They'll change fast enough, so enjoy them while they're this size," she said.

"I don't want things to change," Vader said sharply, more so than he'd meant. Being around his master today had been trying. "Though there may be some good yet. The Emperor—"

"Palpatine—"

"—he's offered us a suite of rooms in the Imperial Palace when it's complete, in recognition of my new post."

Padmé looked at him disapprovingly. "I hope you didn't accept. We can't recognize this dictatorship as legitimate."

"I did." Vader stared at her. "He wants to provide for our children, too. They'll have the very best."

"But at what cost? Living under the shadow of that man? Our children growing up Sith, like him?"

"The Sith are more powerful than the Jedi could ever be," Vader snapped. "They'll be safe. _You'll_ be safe."

"We can take care of them, we don't need Palpatine's help."

"You were so eager to take _Obi-Wan's_ help," Vader muttered nastily. On the blanket, Leia started to fuss.

"Maybe the two of you really were in league—"

Padmé made an exasperated noise. "Don't start that! I love you, I married you! What more proof do you need?"

"That I serve democracy, not authoritarianism!"

Luke's blue eyes were filling with tears, and it took Leia letting loose with a wail for both of them to stop and look at their children. Padmé picked Leia up, cradling her close and turning to walk into the room that had become the nursery.

"Anakin," she said, and Vader looked up after a minute. Padmé was still turned away but her voice was full of tears. "I just want your love, and to raise our family together. I don't want to worry what one day Luke will look at me with those horrible yellow eyes..."

She trailed off, then walked away. Vader seethed until he felt a tiny ripple of fear, and realized it was coming from Luke. Somehow, feeling his own son afraid of him made him all the more guilty, and Vader picked Luke up to sit him in his lap on the couch and wrapping him in layers of soothing feelings.

* * *

Sidious turned away from the window. Even now, Vader was conflicted about his choice; that could lead to disaster. Vader's feelings for his wife and family had been easily manipulated to get him to this point, but if they continued causing this effect then he could have to eliminate Padmé, or at least drive a wedge between them. Not too much not enough to send her into hiding – he wanted those twins – but enough to make it so they weren't a distraction to the Supreme Commander.

A chime sounded, and he turned to see a detachment of troopers came in. Their armor had the red markings of Senate guardsmen. One of them carried a steel dewar flask.

"Did you obtain the samples?" he asked. The lead trooper nodded, and held out the flask.

"Two each, my lord," he said. "One from the source, the other from the Temple. Medical records were kept for each Jedi, which included a blood sample and DNA swab."

"Is that so? Most interesting." Sidious smirked, curling his lips up. That was a not entirely unexpected development, but one that would provide much amusement for him – and much gain. "Take these down to medical and instruct them to create a profile and then send the samples to Kamino with a set of instructions I will provide. Also, I'll ready a list of other of these medical samples that you will pull from the Jedi's records and carry out the same."

"Yes, sir!"

Sidious turned back to the window. Vader's conflict had calmed, and reaching out, he could sense even the faint tickle of the twins, barely there. The boy would be more useful than the girl, he decided. In time, one or both of them would come to serve him in some capacity. And then he would have total control. And even if things didn't go as planned...

He smiled. There was no chance of that, not anymore. If things here turned out ill, there were now ways around failure.


	2. Chapter 2

The Imperial Palace had been designed to be impenetrable, but despite the many quirks of construction required to make it so, the edifice was completed ahead of schedule. The Emperor stood on the broad portico at the Grand Entrance and declared once again the beginning of a new age, one of unrivaled security and stability.

Most of the HoloNet reporters knew better than to take their focus off the Emperor, resplendent in full formal scarlet and darkest black, but their _curiosity_ rested solely on the figure two paces behind. Most – all – recognized the Hero With No Fear, and all knew he was one of the few surviving Jedi. Six months ago, a statement had been released out of the newly-created Office of the Supreme Commander that former Naboo Senator Padmé Amidala was married to Darth Vader, and that they had two children. And there she was behind him, the woman who had barely been seen in public since the attempted coup by the Jedi, in an almost somber gown. Even more fascinating: the twin children who stood unsteadily with her. They were at least a year old by now. It didn't take a genius to do the math.

So, while the reporters were all smart enough to keep Emperor Palpatine front and center, they made sure that Padmé Amidala remained in the frame.

Business was business, after all.

* * *

"I don't like this."

Vader took deep breaths – the small aspects of Jedi life he kept around – and looked at his wife, standing amid packed crates of their belongings. The twins were in what would be their playroom once it was completed, staying out of the way of the adults and the red-and-black liveried servants that roamed around unpacking. "It's what's best for you and for the children. You'll be safe here when I'm sent out on tasks around the galaxy."

"I'm all but a prisoner," Padmé snapped in protest. "Did you even pay attention to the number of security checkpoints we had to pass coming back inside from that horrible ceremony—"she flung her hand wide in a gesture toward the door and opened her mouth to continue, but Vader cut her off.

"Now, listen—"

Padmé wasn't having any of it. "And _leaving_ the Palace requires getting through those checkpoints and multiple other layers of security, plus ones I probably don't know about. Messages are decrypted and read before being passed on to 'non-essential personnel' whatever that means, all I know is that I don't have more than a _gram_ of privacy—"

"Everything is provided, you have a personal staff, the children are going to have the best tutors—"

"All while under the watchful eye of Palpatine—no, don't glare at me like that, I won't call him 'Emperor Palpatine' when I don't have to. And I know he's bugged these rooms. I found three already and that was just with a visual inspection. How many more do you suppose I'll find with an electronic scan?"

"For security reasons!" Vader was getting more irritated. Growing up on Tatooine, he had nothing, and now that he had everything, the one he'd wanted to give it all to was being so unappreciative as to scandalize even him.

"I think this place wasn't just designed to keep people out. It's designed to keep us _in._ Everyone right where that man wants us."

Tired of arguing, Vader angrily turned and glowered at two worker droids carrying in one of the couches for the family sitting room. "I want you to be safe while I'm out with the Fleet. That's all."

"I was safe before." Padmé, tired as well, came up beside him and slipped her arm through his. "I'm tired of arguing, tired of seeing you boarding troop ships, too. I'd feel better if Palpatine was actually stopping the fighting like he promised. But every time you come home, a week later you're leaving again for some Rim world with another uprising. It's like the Clone Wars never ended, they just reached a lull." She sighed. "And there wouldn't _be_ uprisings if the Republic hadn't become the Empire."

Vader felt her lean her head wearily on his shoulder, and reached out, stroking her hair. He'd come back to Coruscant, or Imperial Center as it was now being called, every few months. Every time he expected to be grounded so that he could be given more training than the rough instructions he got via hyperwave transmitter. And every time within the week he received new marching orders.

Even the time he spent planetside wasn't necessarily relaxing. As Supreme Commander, it was his duty to manage separate fleet maneuvers, give the sector groups their tasks, designate priority assignments, read intelligence reports, and generally keep the Navy running from the top down. In other words, exactly the kind of thing he was terrible at. The Dark Side granted a certain clarity, but that was more useful in _battles_ he was personally involved in. And while the Super Star Destroyer that would be his flagship was powerful, even it couldn't be in all places at once.

"Have faith," he murmured, turning to look at her. "Things will calm down eventually when the galaxy realize the good my master will do. Then I'll be home more with you and with Luke and Leia."

Even he didn't buy that lie completely anymore, and by her sigh and the sense he got in the Force, he could tell Padmé didn't either. But she didn't push the point further. Every time they argued, it upset the twins, and their cries cut both of them deeply. They'd become her main source of happiness when he was gone, and she was his very reason for being, so as long as they were happy, she was happy, and so was Vader. As much as he could be, anyway. Thankfully, most of their attentions had been given over to the care and management of their children, so there wasn't so much energy left over for disagreements.

"I was thinking of taking the children and going to Naboo," Padmé said carefully. "The next time you leave. Mother wants to see her grandchildren, and I need to get off this planet. There's something... something _poisonous_ about it." She smiled up at him tentatively. "It'd be good for me and the children to be around people who don't call us sir or ma'am all the time. And if we go with you on your ship, you can make sure we arrive safe."

She'd covered all her bases, all his possible complains so well that Vader felt some of the darkness he shrouded himself in lift. "How long have you been planning this?"

The smile became a little wider and less tentative. "About a month." A pause. "And I'll take Threepio with us for security, if that makes you feel better."

Vader actually laughed at that. "You're good," he murmured, and kissed her.

The good thing about being a Sith: passion wasn't frowned upon.

* * *

Palpatine watched the silvery ship clear Palace airspace and fire its sublight engines on the way up to matching orbits with Vader's ship above the planet. He'd cleared this departure a week ago with a flippant wave of his hand, but inside he was frustrated. While there had been a note of dissonance between them for some time it obviously wasn't strong enough. The same singleminded approach that made Vader invaluable as an agent in the galaxy made him very devoted – _obsessed_ was a better term – with his family.

But he could be patient. He had waited decades to rise to power. He could take the time, engineer this split perfectly so that when it happened, his hand in it would only be obvious to Padmé, and Vader would not heed her words.

The desk comm beeped, and turning his thronelike chair back around, Sidious keyed his acceptance code. "What is it?" he demanded of the willowy being that appeared before him in holo blue.

"Your Excellency," the male Kaminoan said solemnly. "The next batch of clones will be released on time."

One thing to be said of the Kaminoans; as long as the credits kept flowing, they would call you whatever you wanted. "Good," Sidious replied. Conscription and volunteer rates were still low, and the clones formed the bulk of the military. "And our other project?"

"Also good news to report. We have a small success; cloning from the material you gave us, we have at last produced a stable zygote. We needed to remove our work to the facilities you provided us at the Beta Site to accomplish it, however; working with material from former Jedi has proved to be troublesome."

Sidious frowned. "How so?"

"It is almost as though it rebels against the process itself. Cells wither, or else go into uncontrolled growth, unless we work with them in a void area. We are not quite sure, but it seems that somehow the cell can detect what we are doing, and changes gene expression accordingly. We have noted marked decreases in the concentrations of proteins controlling the growth cycle in such cells."

"Indeed." Sidious steepled his fingers together, brows furrowing. This was an odd development indeed, though unsurprisingly not much genetic research had been done with material from Jedi. If it had, all this business wouldn't have been necessary, and his plans wouldn't have been delayed perhaps years. But it was all good to know; some of the samples they had to work with, and the plans for the outcomes, were of vital importance to his long-term goals. Better to refine the process now. "And yet you report a victory."

"This success we report is more in getting the two chosen samples spliced together, without even adding in the extra genetic modifications you specified. But work is proceeding and we have no doubt that we will produce for you a fine specimen before the year is up."

"Very well. Continue at the Beta Site; I'll see to it that you have all the materials you require. I will be the first to know if there are any new developments."

"As you wish," the Kaminoan replied, and the feed cut.

Sidious sat back in his chair, pondering this. _Rebellious even in death, as you were in life_, he thought, a sneer curling his mouth up. _And those twins growing ever older. Thrice-cursed Jedi._

But it didn't seem to matter; the Kaminoans were bringing their project under control, as he had done with the Jedi before he utterly destroyed them, and sent his dogs after those who had fled. And when this project was complete, he would have his marshals.

The fleet under command of the _Incorrigible_ dropped out of hyperspace. Below them, Naboo spun on its axis peacefully, with only a minimum of comm traffic from control as the fleet dropped into orbit.

In the hangar of the _Incorrigible_, Vader stepped back, letting his arms slip from around his wife. "There's a fleet stationed in this sector, so if you need anything..."

"I'll be fine, Ana—Vader." Padmé smiled a little, but Vader didn't fly into a rage like he sometimes did at the mention of his former name. "I'll be perfectly safe, the children will be safe. When you come back through this sector you can pick us up and take us back to Coruscant."

"Imperial Center," he corrected absently, but his focus was on Padmé and the nanny droid wheeling across the hangar floor with Luke and Leia in two of its arms. He didn't like that there was something as cold and impersonal as a droid that had more contact with his children than he did, but while he was at the behest of his master, he had no choice. Plucking Luke out of the spindly arms, he held his son close against his shoulder. Baby-soft skin nestling against his reminded Vader of what he had given up his life for. "Be careful," he said to his wife. "Not everyone is sympathetic to the Empire."

Her face closed up as he did whenever he talked about the Empire in such a way. A year later, she still mourned for democracy. But she carefully stood up on tiptoe and kissed him, then collected Luke and she and the nanny droid walked up the ramp of her ship. A few too-short moments later, his cloak whipped around his legs as the ship rose on repulsorlifts through the magcon field, and fired sublight engines once it was free.

The fleet left orbit half an hour later, and with a flicker of pseudomotion, vanished again into hyperspace.

* * *

Padmé glanced over at Leia and Luke, playing happily in an enclosed area under the watchful gaze of the nanny droid. She would have been there herself, but the guests she had right now commanded her attention.

"I'm glad you both could come, I know Naboo is a little out of the way," she said. Bail Organa took a sip of the tea that had been brought out for them by Threepio.

"I"m guessing you want to know how things are proceeding in the Senate since you resigned your position," Mon Mothma said. At her nod, the Senator sighed. "It's a farce. Palpatine maintains the semblance of democracy but controls everything. He holds court over the Senate sessions, arbitrarily deciding matters regardless of the Senate's votes."

"Some of the new laws enacted are appalling – the Galactic Security Act has clauses scattered throughout that essentially relegate entire species to second-class status There's talk of another that will create institutionalized slavery in all but name. And there's nothing Senators can do to stop it, because like Senator Mothma said, it's a farce. A complete catastrophe." Bail flicked his fingers, brow furrowed deeply. "It's unthinkable."

"And all the while, millions of credits are being funneled not just into military expansion, but into secret projects, there's no transparency at all. Attempts at tracing the funds run into brand-new Imperial Intelligence Security walls."

"I guess we should have expected as much from a Sith," Padmé murmured, heart and mind racing. So much had changed so fast, and the Republic she knew had fallen away almost entirely.

"We hear reports of the Navy aggressively taking action against even the slightest sign of dissent, whether or not there's violence involved." Mon Mothma fixed Padmé with an intense stare. "The Navy your husband is in command of."

Padmé's hands twisted in her lap. "I've tried talking to him about it, but he's deep in Palpatine's grasp. I barely know my own husband anymore."

"So he's lost to us," Bail murmured sadly. "I'm sorry, my lady. I didn't know him well before the end of the Clone War, but he seemed an honorable man then. It's hard to think of him doing wrong by anyone."

She shook her head. "Don't be. The man I married is still there, I know. I just have to find him." She looked at the children playing on the patio. "But we have to find a way to restore democracy and the Republic. If we don't... if we don't, I don't know what will happen."

The three of them sat in silence for a long time. Mon Mothma broke it first. "We won't risk open rebellion, not yet," she said carefully. "A resolution may yet be reached through diplomacy and talks with Palpatine. We have just ended one war. I would not want to immediately launch another."

"Do you think it will come to that?" Bail Organa stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Can we even justify this turning into a military campaign – to open treason?"

"We might have no choice."

"And I must keep my part in all this a secret from my husband," Padmé added. "His moods are easily shifted now, and..." she glanced over her shoulder at the twins. "I have to be here for them. If nothing else, they are my light." She smiled gently, watching the way Luke's hair shone in the warm sunlight, then turned back to look at her guests. "But I will do what I can. Anakin – Vader – has Palpatine's ear as his apprentice. It's possible I could ask him to intercede."

She felt ill, betraying Anakin in even this way. The last time he'd thought she had... Padmé clenched her fists to keep them from going to brush her throat. The bruises may have been long faded, but they may as well have been fresh there for all the difference it made to her. Sometimes – in the moment before sleeping, when her husband's hands caressed her bare skin, that terrifying feeling of an invisible force wrapping around her throat crept up on her, and she would cling tightly to Anakin and will it away. He never would have understood, not as every day brought him farther along the path into darkness. Not when they were now ensconced in the Palace so much, where the very air seemed toxic to her, and where even Luke's bubbly toddler personality was dampened and replaced with a quiet, pale child, who cried often.

"My lady?"

She jerked herself out of her dark thoughts, and forced a smile at Bail. "When will you stop addressing me that way, Senator – do you not remember I was relieved of my position by our dear emperor? I've no claim to that title anymore."

"You always will – _my lady_." Bail smiled at her, laugh lines creasing. "Your actions and demeanor have earned the respect of many beings across the galaxy."

"Had," Padmé corrected. "I wonder what they think of me now that I am wife of their dictator's right hand? But you're too kind, Senator Organa."

Her mood lightened somewhat after that, and the rest of the meeting was spent discussing groundwork, goals, hopes and dreams for the future. Things that could be undertaken over another year to assess their position and other opinions in the galaxy, and rally more to the cause if it was thought it would be useful. It gave her the sense of being needed on a wider scale again, grounded her in the well-being of the galaxy. Being a full-time mother was bliss and playing with her children made her happier than ever, but Padmé always knew in the back of her mind that there was something else yet left for her to accomplish.

Still, her walk after dinner with Luke and Leia could only make her smile. Luke had gotten pretty good at walking, but still had that odd waddle that was so adorable to watch. The grassy slope leading down to the sandy crescent of a beach was soft enough that when he fell, it didn't hurt too much.

Water was something that seemed to fascinate them, too. Maybe it was their Tatooine heritage, or Padmé's own love of water, but she'd realized after many baths that they both loved to sit in the water and touch it, splash it around, try to drink it, or smear it on her face, or any number of other things. So she sat on a bench, watching them sit in the lapping shallows and play with water. They were thus far very calm children, though she figured Luke would end up more like his father. He already favored Anakin in appearance, but she hoped he wouldn't follow in his father's footsteps completely. These children – _all_ children – deserved a galaxy that was free, that didn't live under a manipulative and evil leader.

If only her husband could understand that.

* * *

The Emperor pulled the crushed velvet sleeve back down over his shriveled arm when the Emdee droid finished applying a bacta patch to the place the needle had pierced, and turned to stare at the hologram of the Theed spaceport worker. "You are certain of this?"

"Very, Your Excellency," the woman replied. Her voice shook. "They made no attempt to hide their identity."

"Most interesting. Dismissed." The hologram flickered away on the start of the worker's request for a reward, and Palpatine sat back, thinking. There weren't yet enough well-ranked spies among the former senator's entourage to know what she'd discussed with Senators Organa and Mothma, but prior to his rise to power, they'd been known as opponents for nearly every wartime bill. It was no stretch to think that perhaps they were thinking of ways to depose him and restore the democracy that had been broken long before any of them came to their titles.

He would have to keep an eye on this. Conspiracy, if that was the aim of this cabal, was a crime warranting _unpleasant_ consequences.

* * *

Grasses hissed around his legs and his cloak snagged on bushes as he ran across the plain toward the thick forest half a kilometer distant. Behind him, a detachment of troops was in hot pursuit; occasionally one would get a shot off, but Seth Rossa was a Jedi and could easily dodge them, and most were wide anyway. The brown-nosers and those who didn't wish to get caught could say what they wanted about the superior training of clone troopers; in Seth's experience, they weren't nearly as reliable as the bright green blade of his lightsaber.

But they were numerous and annoying, and they clouded his mind. So many similar presences in the same place made perception of the Force more difficult, and Seth had to concentrate to use it at all. As he made the treeline, he heard the distant whine of their new starfighters. It didn't bother him too much. During the war, he'd blasted off from worse situations with half a hundred anti-air droids shooting at him and still managed to evade being hit. The Jedi didn't believe in luck, but if they had, Seth would have been the first one to start asking for it to hold out for him a little bit longer.

He'd long had a plan in case he'd been discovered here; it was the safest way to go, one of the first things he'd come up with when setting up. With informants everywhere, and troopers right behind, he'd thought it prudent. Complacency was what had brought the Jedi down, and as one of the last, Seth had a responsibility to keep himself alive.

Dropping to his belly and sliding beneath some undergrowth, Seth drew himself in, made himself _small_ in more ways than one. He used the Force to regulate his breathing and heart rate, to cool his body so that if any of the troops had heat-sensors or life-signs scanners, he would be little more than a blip, easily written off as an animal. It was risky, given that he could be discovered at any moment and however much time he had then inevitably wouldn't be enough to bring himself back to normal and make a run for it, but it was a risk worth taking, and Seth had become used to taking calculated risks.

It seemed that just hiding had been enough and he needn't have worried; the troops crashed through the underbrush for a while, while the fighters screamed overhead, but none of them came close to Seth's hiding place. After an hour even the fighters had gone back to their base, and the air above the forest was full only of the noises of the native avians and the calls of some small life form.

Reaching into a belt pouch, he pulled out a small remote and thumbed one of the switches as he walked briskly down an animal track deeper into the wood. Senses still acute from his flight, he could hear the hum of systems powering up, the beeping of his reactivated astromech. Parting with the droid had been surprisingly tough; even though it wasn't capable of actual speech, he'd always thought that the little droid had started to get a personality of its own, and it would have been nice to have even a droid for company on some of the nights when he got to thinking too much. He knew that Anakin Skywalker's astromech was one of the more resourceful and well-traveled droids in the coterie kept by the Order, and R7-M8 had perhaps begun to pick up some of that.

But he'd had to be kept in powered-down mode, except in the times when Seth remotely activated him to get caught up on news from the wider galaxy. And now, when he was fleeing. His thoughts he'd learned to deal with.

The Aethersprite was just where he'd left it, always a good sign; and a layer of undisturbed detritus on it, even better. Mate beeped as Seth cleared off some dead leaves from around his socket and opened the cockpit for him.

"We're getting out of here," he said to the droid as he climbed in, and smiled a little at the excited beeping. "Hopefully my plan'll work. Put in a hyperspace course for Alderaan when we're out of atmosphere." When the final flight check showed all systems green, Seth closed the canopy and lifted up on repulsorlifts, then fired the sublights. He'd stashed a hyperspace ring away in the asteroid belt in this system, and hoped it was still there. Otherwise, it was going to be a very long, very boring trip.

* * *

"_...going well. We have already finished with Xagobah, ahead of schedule, and are moving on to Sluis __Van. From there we will cover the rest of the planets in the Sluis sector. After that we're going to head to the Vivenda sector; there've been reports of discontent on Bespin, and since that planet supplies a lot of the Empire's Tibanna it's important we keep it secure. I think we will be back to pick you and the children up on our way home to Imperial Center in two standard months, perhaps less._"

Padmé shifted Leia in her lap; the little girl was squirming, watching the hologram of her father above the projector plate. "Be still, little one," she murmured, stroking her daughter's hair. It was frizzy and fluffed up from the frigid wind that swept across the lake today. She'd brush it later. That always calmed Leia down. To her husband, she asked, "What are you doing with dissenters?"

"_We are reasonable. We don't kill them._" Anakin – well, he was more Vader for the moment – had the presence of mind to at least try to heed her request that he be just. "_Most are imprisoned. The leaders are taken aboard our ships to be brought back to Imperial Center for questioning_."

"Just because they don't agree doesn't mean they ought to be thrown in prison, Anakin."

The hologram of her husband compressed his lips; he didn't like her calling him that anymore, but she refused to call him _Vader_. It sounded evil and perverted to her ears. And it wasn't her name, and not the name she wanted their children to carry. More importantly, it wasn't who her husband was.

He had given her his word when they'd returned from Mustafar that he was still who she married, but she wasn't blind. She'd seen how he'd changed over a year of months-long trips through the galaxy with precious enough time to relax. He'd grown moodier, more prone to sudden fits of rage and equally sudden swings into the eager, adorably unpracticed Padawan who'd won her heart. The tension and residue of what he'd experienced in the Clone Wars had not been allowed to fade, and when he wasn't on these circuits, he was either with Palpatine or with her. It seemed to be more of the former than the latter, and she'd noticed that the company he was in brought about a distinct change in his demeanor.

"_We're just trying to keep the rest of the Empire's citizens safe. Doing this keeps the peace._"

She decided not to argue it. If the children weren't with her, if this hadn't been a hyperwave transmission from light-years away, she might have, but for now she just wanted to have a conversation with him. He must have sensed that, or seen something in her face, because he shook his head, and gave her a smile.

"_Is that Leia?_"

The little girl heard her name and looked up, right at the projection of her father, and reached for it. This time Padmé let her, because it made her husband laugh a true laugh, and that made her heart glad to hear.

"_She already looks bigger than I remember._"

"They grow fast at this age, Mother tells me. She's been visiting, though not too much in this season. It's cold here in autumn."

"_I remember_." Vader now seemed more like the man she knew and even smiled again, and she thought he must be looking at his daughter. "_And Luke?_"

"He'll be half-wild by the time you come back," she replied with a little laugh herself. "He might only be a year old, but he's learned to walk, and we're forever running after him to make sure he doesn't fall into the lake. It's shallow enough around the shores for the most part, but..."

"_Make sure he stays safe. If anything happened to one of you—_"

"We're safe here, Anakin."

To her relief he didn't snap at the use of his old name. "_Anything can happen_," he replied seriously, but the moment passed in the blink of an eye. "_Is Luke nearby now? I'd like to see him._"

Padmé set Leia on the seat to babble happily at her father for a moment and went looking for Luke. Between her, the nanny droid, and others here she trusted to watch her children, they tried to keep a perimeter established so that if he strayed out of it there was someone to catch him and bring him back, but he could be anywhere within that area. She found him in the nursery, playing with a brightly colored ball, rolling it back and forth. He threw it barely hard enough for it to go three feet and come to rest against some blocks.

"Luke," she said gently, but paused when the ball wobbled where it sat. She was certain he hadn't touched it, and groundquakes weren't common here.

She picked him up, quiet as she walked back to the comm room. It was one more reminder to her of who her children were, and what they were. Luke and Leia would grow up to be Jedi, because they couldn't – _couldn't – _be anything else. She wasn't about to let them become Sith, and denying their heritage would be like trying to stop a stream in its tracks. You might dam the flow, but you couldn't stop it entirely.

But Luke didn't seem bothered at the moment, clambering up onto the chair with his sister to try and grasp the blue image there. Even at a fraction of life size, Padmé could tell how happy seeing them made her husband. Both of them had learned a few words, and after each one of them had excitedly called him "Da!" and waved grubby little hands, she moved them off and sat again. Her husband's smile was as brilliant as it had ever been.

"_They'll be half grown by the time I come back_," he said quietly.

"There's time yet."

"_I miss you,_" he said suddenly. "_I wish you could have stayed with me. The _Incorrigible _isn't exactly a luxury yacht, but I'd feel better if you were here._"

"It wouldn't be any place for our children." Her face softened, though, and like her children, she reached out to brush her fingers through the air the hologram was projected into. "I miss you too, though, husband. We're all safe here, and we'll be safe here until you return."

Her husband raised a hand too, and she knew it was to place his fingers along the cheek of her holographic projection. "_I love you more than anything in the galaxy, Padmé. I'll think of you every day until we're together again_." His hologram turned for a moment, said something, and turned back. "_I've got to go. I'll comm you again as soon as I can. Goodbye, my love._"

The feed cut, and she was left staring at the cool gray of the emitter. "Goodbye," she whispered.

* * *

The _Tantive_ _IV_ dropped out of hyperspace and swung around on an approach vector for Alderaan. Because of its size, and the elevated traffic of refugee ships from various places around the galaxy, Organa had opted to revert farther away, so he could take a look at the world he cared so deeply for.

Blue and green and white, Alderaan spun peacefully through space, bathed in the light of her star. They were close enough to see how busy local space was; Bail could hear it faintly, the bridge comms kept low as most of the important communications were either run through the viewscreen or through the pilots' headsets. But most of his consideration was for the planet ahead of them. They were close enough to see the green and brown of the continents, their distinct shapes. There was the region where Aldera was.

He'd thought often over the last year about going to Padmé, offering her sanctuary on Alderaan. It was well known that the planetary government would take in and give asylum to anyone, and they were most reluctant to bend the knee to the Emperor anyway. She always seemed so unhappy whenever he ran into her at the Palace, which was often enough that he could see the progression of the dark circles under her eyes. Though those could also be from the little ones she had in her care, the two who looked like little clones of their parents.

Even on Naboo, she'd seemed so sad. Now that he knew she'd been married to Skywalker at the start of the Clone Wars, a lot of things made sense to the Senator. And the source of her sadness was probably seeing the man she loved become a monster.

"On approach, sir," Antilles said. "We'll be entering atmosphere in five minutes—_woah!_"

The exclamation was followed by a sharp maneuver that rocked Organa in his seat. "What was _that_? Did we get hit?"

"No sir—"

The comm crackled suddenly. "..._anyone copy_..."

Bail leaned forward, brow furrowed. "Something's trying to come through on the comm. Can you boost the signal?"

Antilles tapped some buttons, and the voice came through again, clear this time.

"_Does anyone copy? I am requesting asylum from the planetary government of Alderaan, I may have been pursued from my origin point._"

Bail depressed the comm button. "This is Senator Bail Organa on board the _Tantive IV_. That was a pretty close call you made there, we almost collided."

"_Sorry. I didn't think anyone would be out this far_."

"It's been a while since I've seen home, but that's not important now. To whom am I speaking?"

The voice sounded a bit more guarded after it responded, following a longer than usual pause. "_Jedi Knight Seth Rossa_. _ Who is this?_"

"Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan. Did you say you wanted asylum?"

"_Yes. I may have been pursued by Imperial troops._"

"Then you'd better come aboard. We're opening the ventral docking bay now."

He watched an Aethersprite in Jedi colors detach from a hyperspace ring and swoop toward them on a long, curving vector, and wondered just what he'd begun.

"It's good to know the troopers didn't follow me," Rossa said when they'd landed in Aldera. Breha and he had been adamant in not allowing Imperial troops to be garrisoned on-planet, and for that Bail had been grateful. While it hadn't earned them any points with the new Imperial Senate and certainly not with Palpatine, Bail hadn't been looking for approval from anyone, but had followed his own principles and those which his citizens adhered to, for the most part. Nonetheless the Jedi had still kept his hood up and moved quickly from the _Tantive IV_ to the palace, but Alderaan remained a Jedi-friendly planet, its leaders not buying into the supposed Jedi Rebellion.

"It sounds like quite a tale you have to tell," Bail replied, thanking the young Devaronian female who brought them both tea. "How about we start at the beginning? Where were you stationed at the end of the war?"

"I was keeping an eye on the situation on Gyndine; the Separatists were said to have a fleet in the area, and agents on-planet, so my clones and I were doing reconnaissance to determine if that was true. I was doing my best to mediate situations as they arose, but even in the Expansion planets the Jedi didn't have a large presence, and the Separatists had been there long enough to ingrain certain bits of propaganda." He took a sip of the tea.

"So how did you keep your clones from turning on you?"

"I didn't. I escaped." Seth's face was tight, every line standing out harshly. "I had to cut down the ones that stood in my way, but I escaped. I had to get back to the Temple to warn the Council that my clones had turned on me." He laughed hollowly. "I didn't suspect, not until I heard the beacon, that something might be amiss. It was too convenient that I should get attacked by my clones, and then the Temple beacon is activated at near the same time."

"I thought Jedi didn't believe in such things as convenience and coincidence."

"We're not all the same, Senator." There was only the barest edge to Rossa's voice, but now, he just sounded tired. "Either way, I got off Gyndine and made my way to Abridon, where I've been hiding out the last year or so. It wasn't until someone tipped off the Imperials on me when I went in to the nearest town to get supplies that anyone came after me. I'd kept my interceptor stashed away in the woods nearby my shelter, so I was able to make a run for it and lose the ground pursuit and take off. I ran into trouble on the way to pick up my hyperspace ring – a couple of those new death-trap starfighters they're rolling out – but I'm pretty sure I lost them on the way here. I've been traveling for almost three days trying to make sure I've not been followed. I didn't want to put you or Alderaan in any danger."

"Alderaan will endure," Bail replied. "And I will persevere, no matter what the esteemed Emperor may or may not do to me for harboring a Jedi."

"So you'll grant me asylum?"

"Alderaan does not turn away those in need. And I've always been a friend to the Jedi."

"Forgive me, Senator," Rossa said just a bit dryly, "But I haven't been sure who to trust for a year."

"Well, I think we need the wisdom of the Jedi in the galaxy. It's been gone only a year, and look what's happened." Bail gestured out to the city, packed full of refugees from all corners of the galaxy. "Speciesism is rampant, troops attack without warning and give no mercy to those who ask it, all dissent is silenced either by the sword or the purse or by simply vanishing..."

"It's not a good time to be welcoming to all. But I thank you gratefully for letting me stay."

"I had an idea, actually," Bail replied slowly. "Why don't you hide in plain sight? I could use the counsel of a Jedi, and the last place anyone will think to look will be at the side of a Senator."

"That a good idea?" Rossa seemed doubtful. "Now that Skywalker's become a turncoat, he can be used as a weapon by Palpatine. He's spent the last year going around the galaxy ferreting out remnant enclaves of Jedi. He'll be able to detect what I am if he has half a mind to it."

"Yes, but Palpatine keeps him running from sector to sector. Besides, he won't be looking for a Jedi so close to the Palace, and I can keep you far enough away from where they are usually that I think you'll be safe. But if you don't feel comfortable..."

"I don't," Rossa said, a little more forcefully.

"Then I can find a place for you in my wife's retinue. But like I said, these times call more than ever for the wisdom of a Jedi."

Rossa leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. For the first time, Bail realized just how exhausted, how sad and stoop-shouldered the Jedi seemed. "I don't know how wise the Order was at its end, Senator. Looking back on it now, I don't know how we couldn't have seen it coming, all the signs were there. Maybe we were just too arrogant, too confident in our prescience and our ability to sense evil..." he shook his head. "I'm not sure. But if the Jedi are ever going to rise again, someone's going to have to figure it out."

This was all outside Bail's realm of experience, and he felt vaguely uncomfortable, as though he'd just been exposed to something personal that wasn't meant to be shown. "I am sure that they will, Jedi Rossa," he said formally, standing. Rossa stood with him. "The Jedi have always been there when the galaxy needed them."

"Except this last time." Rossa inclined his head though, after a quiet moment. "I know you're taking an awful risk, allowing me to stay. I appreciate it, and I'll try to return the favor however I can."

"I'll talk to my wife and let you know the arrangements we come up with," Bail promised. They worked out a place for Rossa to stay while he was here, and two of Bail's own personal guard escorted the Jedi to his room.

Perhaps Rossa was right, he reflected later that night while finishing up some work in his personal study. The words on the datapad's screen had long since blurred together, and he wasn't really reading what was before him, but it didn't matter right now. After his talk with Padmé, Organa knew that for now he needed to keep quiet, dissent when necessary (an alarmingly large amount of the time as of late, to be sure), but not make overt moves.

"Thinking about the Jedi?"

Bail turned, a gentle smile coming to his lips at the sight of his wife. While theirs had been a marriage of convenience, one arranged to calm the waters between their houses, they had come to have real affection and love for each other. Breha was an intelligent woman with a quick wit, talented at many things – including figuring out with incredible accuracy what it was that was on her husband's mind. "More than ever now, we need what Jedi are left to stand up to Palpatine and this dictatorship he's set up. But what if all of them are like Rossa? He has no hope."

"He has no reason to right now, at least not to his mind." Breha walked round and put her arms around his shoulders. "Many have lost hope since the Empire was established at the end of the war. Promises of restoration of planets with economies devastated by battle haven't been fulfilled; emissaries of the Empire run roughshod over planetary governments and make them bend to Palpatine's will. And beyond it all, someone who once fought for the Republic is now leading the military arm of that which has stomped it out." Bail felt her sigh against his back. "There isn't much to hold hope for."

"But we must! The Republic—"

"I'm not saying we shouldn't have hope, dear husband," his wife replied, sliding away to walk toward the door to their bedroom. "But it needs time to grow. Hope alone isn't good enough soil for oro woods to sprout, and even then they take years to reach full size. Lose hope, though, and you lose it all."

Bail sat in thought on that for a long moment, before powering down his datapad and terminal for the night and following Breha into their bedroom. He, at least, would keep hope alive.


	3. Chapter 3

The gunship rocked, and some of the troopers inside flinched as the sound of artillery whistling past filtered in through the hull of the ship. Vader stared at them until they stilled. Their helmets didn't give away the fact they were looking away, or that they'd suddenly broken into a sweat. The ones that flinched were conscripts or volunteers, supplementing the clones that still made up the bulk of the Imperial forces. The clones didn't react in any way. They didn't even react to him.

_Don't think about it_.

It was easy to forget things when he was out on duties like this, details like what it was like to interact with beings who weren't clones or how to act when you weren't constantly expecting an attack or a betrayal. Sometimes he'd contact a regional governor or one of the newly-appointed Moffs – Tarkin being the one he trusted the absolute least and thus the one that Vader was determined to hang around as often as possible – but then the conversation was all business.

The clones understood one thing though. In battle, you didn't think. You didn't spend time wondering about things in the past, things that couldn't be changed. You acted, and that was all that was asked of you. If you didn't act, you died.

Vader liked things simple like that. He'd never had the ability to _talk_ to people like his Master (either of his masters) did. Give him a mechanical puzzle, a broken droid or a door control to get open or a ship to hotwire, and his hands and mind moved as one. Give him diplomacy, and he was all but useless.

If there was one thing Vader hated, it was being useless. It had cost him his mother, and if he had listened to Mace Windu, he would have been useless in the face of the terrible fate that had awaited Padmé and his children. But he'd _acted_, hadn't he, and he'd changed all that.

In battle, he acted. And he didn't have to think about things like the look in Obi-Wan's eyes the moment before he had leaped and cut him down, or the look of betrayal his wife had given him when in a fit of anger he'd choked her. Vader had later thought he remembered something, a surge of shock at his own actions, that had made him release her. But he couldn't figure it out, and so instead he immersed himself in the fighting, a kind of moving meditation where all the feelings of being ripped in two faded and all that was left was the next swing of the lightsaber, the next step over the body of someone who was trying to destroy the peace he'd brought.

_Why couldn't they just be grateful? Why can't they see that my Master is doing what is best for them, for the galaxy?_

Sometimes, a tiny voice spoke up in the back of his mind, and said that he didn't really believe that, deep down. Vader didn't know how to make that voice go away other than to ignore it and kill something. Or be around Padmé. When he was with her, things made sense and the world was clear and he didn't have to think about being the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy or being Lord Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith. He was just who he was, and if he no longer was certain about who he was, it didn't matter. Padmé completed him regardless, and always had. Without her, he was nothing, and all the power in the galaxy was worthless to him if he couldn't go back to her.

Which made it all the more important that the troopers _focus_.

And then the drop ship landed, the doors opened, and Vader led a squad of members of his 501st Legion out onto Praesitlyn, putting all other thoughts from his mind. He had work to do.

* * *

The Emperor's Official Chambers in the Imperial Palace had been designed by Sidious himself. They were similar to his office in the Senate Building, in that they followed the same dark-colored scheme and had the same art pieces arranged around the various rooms, but they were overall on a more grandiose scale, so as to accommodate the increased traffic that a dictatorship inevitably generated.

But he wouldn't be taking visitors – at least, not ones who had to go through the supposedly proper channels – until later in the day. Sidious often obsessively managed his schedule personally, rather than trust it to an aide. The more times information changed hands, even seemingly innocuous information such as his daily schedule, the more likely it was to be leaked to someone who had designs that were not in line with Sidious' own. Furthermore, if some upstart Senator or lordling saw only the 'official' Royal Schedule, they might get it into their head to come bursting in in the large block of time set aside in the mornings, and stumble into something that they had no business seeing.

No, they could wait their turn for when he received them here in his offices, or in one of the newly-completed and richly appointed throne rooms. Sidious enjoyed letting what he thought of as a flair for the dramatic have free rein, while at the same time mixing it with subtle psychological cues.

Every so often, he would pull a small device out of a hidden drawer in his desk, stroke it with pale fingers, and put it back carefully in its foam-sculpted niche, and shut the drawer again. So many things would have been so much more difficult without his little toy.

At the moment, though, he was in full red-and-scarlet; this was his last 'unofficial' meeting of the normal day's schedule, and in front of him was a most interesting specimen.

"Your name?" he asked.

The alien was humanoid enough, though several features set him apart from the humans in the room – his blue skin and glowing red eyes, for one. In the dim room, they let off a slight glow. "Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Your Excellency. I would be honored if you would call me by my core name, Thrawn."

"Thrawn, then." Sidious knew better than to make a pretense of scrolling through a record of the other's virtues. From what he'd read, Thrawn would be able to see through it, and Sidious hated wasting time. A pity he wasn't Force-sensitive or human. "Admiral Parck has a long list of your virtues."

"I assure you they are all supported on fact."

"He recommends you for a military commission."

"Indeed."

Sidious peered a moment over his steepled fingers. It would truly be a waste to let this one go. "I believe you may have a place here, Thrawn. More information will be provided later today. I will expect to hear you reported as ordered tomorrow."

"You are too generous, Your Excellency." Thrawn's bow was deep enough, but Palpatine had to suppress a smile. Truly, someone who could play the game just as well as he or any Sith could, most likely.

Truly a pity, then. Vader was proving to be more work than initially thought, harder to control, more unstable than previously imagined. Sidious frowned as the door slid shut and he was left in delightful solitude once more. He should have ensured Padmé would die when he still could have done so innocuously. Why she _hadn't_ was still beyond him. He thought he'd taken care of things.

Reality, however, was more slippery than he had thought at first as well. Things like the Senate, in its now-farcical form, were easy to manipulate even without help. But complexities were beginning to arise, factions and facets that he had not anticipated when first putting his plans in motion. The beauty of being a Sith, though, was being flexible, able to change and adapt oneself to one's current situation. It was why he and Vader had survived, and the Jedi had perished or hid like cowards.

So he could be flexible with Vader. He had long ago had the measure of the boy; now it was all a question of playing things out to their logical conclusion.

His comm beeped softly, in the tone he'd set for transmissions from Vader. Making sure the door was locked and security-priv'd, Sidious thumbed the appropriate button and sat back in his throne. "Lord Vader."

Vader's head was bowed to the floor of the holopad he was standing on. "_I have news to report, my Master._"

"Then report it."

"_My task force has finished eliminating supposed resistance cells. Sluis and Vivenda sectors are once more loyal to the Empire_."

"That is good news." Vader might be unpredictable at times, but he was an effective tool when the job called for his kind of work. "Our supply of Tibanna is assured?"

"_I am leaving a detachment of the 501__st__ to make sure the mining operation remains secure._"

"Excellent, good news indeed." Sidious paused, more for effect than because he was actually thinking. "And you are now on your way back to Naboo?"

"_Padmé is waiting for me."_

"Of course she is. I will expect a full report upon your return, Lord Vader."

"_As you wish, my Master."_

The transmission ended, and Sidious absently chewed a thumbnail as he put the pieces of this particular deviousness into place in his mind, turning them over and over. Everything was an advantage; all it took was the right point of view.

* * *

Two months had gone by quickly, and Padmé somehow found herself surprised at the changes, both good and bad, that had occurred. The twins were much steadier on their feet now than they had been upon leaving Coruscant, and they even insisted on walking beside her down the ramp of her ship. Her husband had smiled, almost a real one, when they'd made their wishes clear. Padmé had caught his eye, and the smile had brightened a bit more so that he almost looked like himself again. But then it was gone, and she had to see the dark circles under his eyes and the gaunt look of his face again.

Palpatine was there to greet them. Out of courtesy she bowed her head, but kept herself from clenching her jaw. He would notice, and no doubt file that infraction away for some kind of punishment exacted later on. She had the twins do their clumsy duty as well. Luke fell over and simply sat himself on the floor of the landing platform like he meant it, staring at his father with wide eyes. Her husband bowed, much more deeply, and helped Luke up when he straightened.

"They grow so big," Palpatine said, his sibilant voice easily audible over the roar of day-to-day Coruscanti traffic. "So quickly."

"Two months is a long time," Padmé replied. "I cherish the time I have with them when they're this size, Your Excellency." The words stuck in her throat.

"Two months is indeed a long time. I am sure in the months to come we'll see yet more to surprise us, my lady." The honorific had been just as insincere as her own words had been. Padmé shifted, looked at her husband.

"We're both tired, Master," he said. "I ask your leave to go to our apartments and rest."

"Of course, of course. I have an airbus here for your use – your personal use, in fact."

"That's too generous, we couldn't—" Padmé began, but her husband cut her off.

"Thank you, Master," he said. "You're very generous to us."

"Loyalty is rewarded," Palpatine replied, then gestured to two male Devaronians stuffed into royal livery. "How better to reward my most steadfast lieutenant? Indeed, I owe you more than you know."

"You don't owe us anything, Your Excellency," Padmé replied.

"No, that's true. But as I said, I reward those who have given me their allegiance. And to that... Lord Vader, a word in private before you leave with your wife?"

Padmé knew a dismissal when she heard one. Feeling a headache already beginning, she supervised the loading of their cases onto the airbus. Leia and Luke were shepherded aboard by their nanny droid and safely strapped in, and by the time the last of their things got loaded on, her husband was walking across the platform toward her, while Palpatine and his entourage of aides and guards in their menacing red robes boarded their own airbus.

Her husband had a strange look on his face, and Padmé paused to try and read it. He had ever been easy to read, though lately it seemed the farther into the darkness he walked, the more guarded he became. Still, his expression said a lot – suspicion, was that? Anger? Doubt?

"What's wrong, Anakin?"

He gave her a sidelong look as they boarded the airbus. "Nothing. Don't call me that."

Padmé sighed as they strapped themselves in across from the twins, who were staring at everything with the endearing curiosity of children. Seeing them, her husband seemed to relax beside her – at least, she felt his muscles ease, and his voice was soft when he spoke. "They _are_ getting big."

"Luke... he did something with the Force, while you were gone," she said quietly, tentatively laying her head on his shoulder. When he didn't move away, she slipped her hand in his, relieved to feel him give it a gentle squeeze. This was almost the Anakin she'd married. "He rolled a ball across the floor."

"And I missed it," he said, bitterness a hard edge in his voice. "Just like I missed their first steps. Like I'll probably miss so much more of their lives."

"You can speak to... to the Emperor about staying on-planet. You can't keep going at this pace, anyway, what's out there that you need to police? People living their lives?"

"Threats to the security of the Empire..." but he shook his head. "I'm going to be staying here for a while, anyway. The Imperial Academy is hosting a gala at the Palace in two weeks. As Supreme Commander, I have to go... and I'd hope you'd accompany me?"

She had to smile at him then, at the eager, hopeful way he said it. Somewhere in there was her Knight, still. "You know I would, Ani."

He didn't even object, just squeezed her hand again and relaxed even more. She took it as a victory.

* * *

"...Lord Vader, a word in private before you leave with your wife?"

Vader watched Padmé turn away, feeling an echo of her sour mood. She'd been happy when he'd landed on Naboo; they'd spent a couple days there, and he'd gotten a chance to reassure himself that his agreeing to let her stay at the house in the Lake Country wasn't ill-fated. Even with the Dark Side now fueling him, he still lived in fear of her death. His master hadn't yet taught him Plagueis' methods for immortalizing her, and the galaxy was not yet safe. Still, being able to sit in the sun with her at his side had been a welcome respite.

Vader turned and stepped away from the main activity. "What is it, Master?"

"I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, my boy, you know you are the greatest of my apprentices..."

Bad news? Vader was instantly on alert. "What bad news?"

"I'm afraid I don't know all the details, but... it seems that your wife had a visitor while you were gone."

"You were watching her?" That put Vader's hackles up, too. He appreciated that his master cared so much about his life as to safeguard the livelihood of Vader's own family, but something seemed off about it. He didn't like the idea of his family being _watched_.

"I was, and I happened to notice that she had a visitor, as I said."

Vader could sense the annoyance coming off his master, but also something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. "It was probably her mother, or another member of her family. They all live in Theed, still. I know her mother's been wanting to see the twins."

"I'm afraid that's not the case. You see... the person who visited her is a rather well-known Senator, one your wife worked with extensively prior to leaving the Senate."

Vader furrowed his brow, thinking, running through a mental list of who Padmé had associated with then. It was over a year ago now, and hard for him to remember. Those were memories from someone else, someone he didn't want to call up to ask. "...I'm sorry, Master."

"It was Bail Organa, interestingly enough. He met your wife at the house she was staying at with the children and didn't leave for some hours, it appears."

Vader felt the hot stab of jealousy. "Did he?"

"I'm not meaning to insinuate that anything untoward went on. Your wife is a woman of great honor and virtue, I know. But one does have to wonder what was so important that the Senator visit her personally and stay for several hours? We are not at all certain of _his_ virtue."

"What are you saying?"

"I am saying simply to keep that in mind. Be vigilant, Lord Vader; I'd hate to see your beloved wife drawn into something that ends up dragging her into treason."

He stiffened. Treason against the Empire was an offense that carried a death sentence. If Padmé were to be convicted of treason, there was perhaps little he could do. "I will be vigilant, Master. Thank you for warning me."

"I only do this because Organa has made it plain that he would rather return to the squabbling and petty, fractious nature of the Republic, rather than the unity I gave the galaxy. He is not to be trusted, Lord Vader. And for him to draw your dear wife down with him would be a tragedy indeed. Why, your poor children, without a mother..."

"I won't let it happen, Master. I can—"

"No, my boy, do nothing yet. We have to have solid evidence against Organa before we can move. This game will take much longer than anything else. Best leave it to me until I give you instructions otherwise."

"As you wish, Master." Vader bowed deeply, and sensed approval from his master.

"Rest a few days in the Palace, my friend," Sidious told him. "I will call for you when it is time."

Vader turned and headed back over to the airbus that was almost loaded with their things, fighting to keep his expression neutral. It was difficult; he'd been in the habit of letting loose with his emotions whenever it took him, rather than trying to ignore them as he had _before. _Hiding things from Padmé was difficult, anyway. She could read him with a glance, and sometimes seemed almost Force-sensitive with how spot-on she was. It was part of why he needed her with him. She understood him better than anyone else, better even than his master.

But he would be vigilant. He had to make sure she would never leave him.

* * *

"What's wrong, Anakin?"

Their apartments clearly had been entered and cleaned while they were gone. Padmé wondered how many audio/visual monitoring devices had been installed this time, and mentally added that to the list of things she wanted to do in the next few days. She had it down to an art by now.

That thought only served to frustrate her further. Now that they were back in the Palace, with the strange, noxious influence it had on people, the twins were more prone to crying. It wasn't just the kind they did when they fell down, either, but heartbreaking sobs that had both her and her husband cradling one or the other. It got worse as they started feeding off each other, their bond in the Force making everything more difficult.

At least when they were finally put to bed, she could be reasonably sure of them sleeping through the night. They had been more and more lately, and she was sure that once they got back in to their normal routine, they'd settle down and sleep.

So after dimming the light in the twins' room and turning on the little nightlight that projected the stars in Naboo's night sky, Padmé made her tired way to the bedroom. Her husband was already in bed, scrubbing at his eyes and trying to read something on his datapad. She leaned in the doorway a moment, watching him with a little smile on her face before he could notice her. He'd never fully lose the tan or the sun-touch in his hair, she figured. Tatooine was in his blood, and, wild and only grudgingly tamed, he suited the planet he tried so hard to forget.

There were times when, like her husband, Padmé tried hard to forget things.

Breaking out of her thoughts, she stepped into the room and slid under the blanket, stretching out with a sigh. It felt good to be sharing her bed again. As much as she sometimes woke with tears in her eyes from a dream of a hellish planet, her husband was warm and solid, and she had had so little time with him since they'd married that she would take what she could get.

Her husband put the datapad on the bedside table and slid down to face her. His eyes were less Mustafar and more Naboo, the blue color of the lake on a sunny day. There was a hazy orange rim to them, still.

"They finally quieted down?"

"They'll be better when they're settled back in," she murmured, reaching out to touch his face. So much thinner than she remembered. "Ani... what happened while you were out, these last two months. You look like you've not been eating."

"You try the field rations. You wouldn't eat either." For a moment a wry smile curved his mouth. "Don't worry about it, my love. I'm just making the galaxy safe for us and our children."

She wanted to tell him that she'd never feel safe here, in this place where she felt Palpatine's eye always on her. But she swallowed those words. "We're safe," she said quietly. "When we're all together."

He smiled, and reached out to put an arm around her, and she let him draw her close.

* * *

A few days later, Vader got a summons from his master. Padmé glanced up when the aide repeated the message she'd been given. It didn't take the Force to sense her disapproval, but Vader knew his duty, and donned his black cloak.

"I'll be back shortly, I think," he told her. "I sense this won't take long."

She seemed about to say something, but didn't, just nodded. Pulling his hood up,Vader left their apartment, and got into the turbolift in their foyer.

The Palace was not one large building, but rather a complex; five towers arranged in a pentagon around a central, four-sided ziggurat which contained most of the day-to-day happenings of the government. The Emperor's Offices were there, along with all the diplomatic trappings of the Empire – conference rooms, ballrooms, reception halls, the opulent Throne Room that the Emperor occasionally held audiences in.

Vader's apartments were in the northeast tower. This held the living quarters of essential palace higher-ups and their families. Lower down on the tower was a school that the twins would one day attend, and every five levels a long, slightly arched walkway flew off into space, connecting to either the main ziggurat, the north tower, or the southeast tower. Vader strode confidently along as underlings bowed or scurried out of his way. They never would have afforded the other this, Vader thought to himself. This was only the kind of respect he should have had all along. Even the Inquisitors – his master's newest dogs – bowed and stood aside for him. They were housed in the southwest tower, between the visiting diplomats' residences tower and the military tower. Vader was happy to have them far away from him; he couldn't stand them.

In the central building, he took a life up to the top floor and emerged into the Emperor's Office. As usual at this hour, the room was mostly empty. A few aides, some military personnel who snapped to attention as he entered. Vader ignored them all – even the strange, blue-skinned humanoid – and knelt before his master.

"I have come as you asked, my Master."

"And promptly, too. Rise, Lord Vader." Sidious turned to look out over the cityscape once more. "You have done very good work, securing the most volatile places in the Empire. Such work can only be worth of great reward. It is time for you to leave the field, until such time as you have mastered the skills befitting a Dark Lord of the Sith, and can truly be a force to be reckoned with."

Vader felt a surge of elation. Finally! Finally he would be able to learn how to keep Padmé safe, after waiting for so long. "I am honored, my Master."

"You thought I had forgotten my promise?" Sidious' voice was slightly mocking, but jovial. "Truly, my friend, I know you are happiest with a lightsaber in your hand."

"I am happiest at the side of my wife," Vader corrected. "Knowing she is safe. But I thank you for the opportunities you gave me while out in the field. I look forward to your teachings, Master."

Sidious waited until Vader had left his office in a swirl of black fabric, fairly glowing with satisfaction, before he turned to Thrawn.

"What do you make of him, my friend?"

"The Supreme Commander?" Thrawn appeared thoughtful. "He seems rather unstable, Your Excellency."

"He is quite unwell, it's true," Sidious agreed. "But he is useful."

"If heavy-handed."

"If that. Still, I need him yet... but you will be getting your chance out in the field, after this little function next week. Do you think you are up to the task of handling our officers?"

"I will have to command them, Your Excellency. What commander doesn't strive to know each person under his command?"

* * *

"...never mind that he made you this promise _over a year ago_, without any strings attached save that you raid the—"

"Don't talk about that," Vader cut her off. Padmé scowled at him, and continued hanging up her dresses from the bins they'd been packed in. She'd been so busy watching Luke and Leia that she'd barely had enough energy to fall into bed beside her husband at night.

"Anakin—"

"Don't _call me that_."

"What else am I going to call you? I'm not going to use the name that _he_ gave you." Padmé sighed, running a hand through her brunette curls. "I don't want to argue with you," she said, softly. "I die every time we do."

_I die every time Watto makes you do it_.

Vader clenched his jaw. That wasn't who he was anymore. He was new, different. He wouldn't be subject to the fears of his past.

"Training with my master means I'll be here almost all the time," he replied, after the silence had stretched on, the only noises from Luke, sleeping fitfully in his father's lap. Vader stroked the toddler's silky blond hair. Suns-touched, just like his own. "I won't be away again for a long time."

Padmé shifted Leia in her arms; she was the fussier of the twins, at least at the moment, and needed lots of attention before being able to settle down and sleep. Luke seemed able to sleep whenever he got tired. "I'm glad," she said, and she meant it. "You being away all the time..."

"It's all going to change," Vader repeated. "I promised you things would get better back... back _before_, and now I'm going to make good on it."

Padmé shook her head with a smile. "I have the children, and now I have you again. Things are already better."

* * *

The First Annual Imperial Academy Gala was, as the inaugural social event of the Academy, a rousing success.

The Academy itself was not on Imperial Center, but Palpatine had insisted on the officers and the sector governors coming to make themselves familiar with each other, and spoke of ushering the new era of safety and security with the help of those assembled here today. Ensuring cooperation within the ranks of the Fleet, he said, would ensure smooth military operations to preserve the livelihood of the citizenry of the Empire.

Vader spoke as well, though not with the same charisma as his master. Padmé smiled as she listened to him deliver his speech. She'd helped him write it, when she saw he was struggling. In the past two weeks, some of the wounds in their relationship had begun to heal, despite everything that had happened between them. When he was around his family, she could see more of the man she'd married than the man he'd become. Being around his family seemed to be a stabilizing force, something that soothed his brittle nerves. Seeing him regaining a sense of stability, even if he seemed to be sinking even deeper into darkness, felt like a small victory.

When his address was over, the gala was declared officially open. Padmé stepped forward, slipping her hand around her husband's arm. "That was very well said."

His expression didn't change much, but he put his hand on top of hers. "I would not have done it without you. I suppose politicians are actually good for something."

Padmé eyed him until he looked at her too, and gave her a sort of half-smile. "True enough," she murmured as they descended the steps from the dais the speaking podium was at. "Your first attempts were atrocious."

"Speechmaking is not my strength." Vader's fingers caressed hers again. "I know I've told you this already, but you look so beautiful."

She absently smoothed the rich blue fabric of the gown she wore. It was the first of its kind that she'd worn since giving birth, and while she'd always valued her mind over her body, there was still the matter of appearance being the first impression to some cultures, and as much as she might find their position distasteful, Padmé knew to play the politics game would be the better route for now. "Thank you," she said.

"Your husband's assessment isn't far off, my lady," said a voice nearby, and they paused. It only took her a moment to place the face – Tarkin, one of the regional governors, though she doubted he'd remain at that level for long. She knew him from before the government had changed, and knew that he was an infinitely ambitious man. "The color does suit you."

She'd chosen the color because it was the diplomatic neutral color the Republic had preferred; many Supreme Chancellors had worn blue Veda cloth, and the Senate Guard had worn blue. She was certain Tarkin hadn't missed the subtle reference. "Thank you, Governor," she said politely, though with the slightest hint of an edge. "I'm flattered."

Tarkin's smile was tight-lipped. "Charming, to see you again, my lady," he replied dryly.

Her husband's jaw tightened. "Governor Tarkin," he said, making the name like a curse. "I trust that your troubles with resistance movements are now at an end?"

"Indeed," the other man replied. "Though your approach was rather heavy-handed, Lord Vader, as some of the colonists on Varonat can attest."

"It is not my duty to look out for your colonists," Vader replied icily. "If they got in the way of my troops, then that is their problem and yours, and not my concern."

"I cannot be expected to maintain control of the natives if I do not have the right manpower, and I cannot supply the Empire with the planet's resources if I don't have workers."

"With the security of the Cloud City operation on Bespin, we don't really need the Varonat products anymore. Our supply of Tibanna gas is assured."

"Perhaps not as secure as you would think. Lord Vader."

Under her hand, Padmé felt the tension in her husband's arm, and knew if she didn't stop things now, there would be a scene. "Husband," Padmé cut in. "While I'm sure these are important matters..."

Vader paused, looked at her, and then nodded slowly. "We will discuss this at another time, Governor," he said coldly, and turned, leaving Tarkin behind so fast that Padmé had to almost jog to keep up. When they were across the room, and Tarkin had apparently engaged some of the younger officers in conversation, she tugged him to a stop.

"Calm down, Anakin," she murmured, brow furrowed as she watched him try to contain himself. He was almost shaking – and, she noticed with a start, so were the glasses of champagne on the table nearby. Only slightly, but enough so that they clinked together occasionally, the golden liquid inside rippling as though in a groundquake. "I know you don't like him, but being baited here isn't going to be good for anyone."

His hands came up to grip her shoulders, the metal tips of his prosthetic hand skeletal-seeming through the leather gauntlet he work regardless of the occasion, and they stayed like that for a long moment before her husband seemed to draw himself back in. It was an almost visible recoiling of power, and it frightened her more than his anger had.

_At any moment he could have killed the governor_, she thought to herself. _It might not be a big loss, but even in his worst moods, Anakin never would have..._

"You're right," he said, and she blinked herself out of her musings. "It wouldn't be appropriate here." He gave her a small smile, and she tried to ignore the yellow gleam in his eyes. "Another good use for a politician." She smiled for him, and that seemed to further relax him.

The only other incident of note that night was when they ran into Bail Organa. Still holding onto his Senatorial position, though it was little more than a formality now, he bowed to her in the courtly fashion of Alderaan. Her husband was tense against beside her, eyes boring into the other man's skull hard enough to puncture. He seemed to be scrutinizing Organa especially closely, for some reason she couldn't fathom.

As they walked away from that conversation, her husband leaned over. "I don't want you talking to him too much if you can help it."

Her brow furrowed. "Senator Organa's been one of my friends here on-planet since I started in the Senate – he's a colleague and a friend. Why don't you want me talking to him?"

"I don't trust him." He looked at her sharply. "My master has reason to believe he's a traitor to the Empire."

Padmé kept her expression carefully neutral, and did her best to quell the panic that suddenly rose in her. Could Palpatine know? Could her husband? "Senator Organa wishes for democracy and diplomacy to return, as I do. Does your master label me a traitor, too?"

"No. But I don't want something to happen to you because you're implicated in something he did. Try not to talk to him too much, for me?"

Reluctantly, she nodded. "I'll try." That seemed to put him at ease, and the rest of the gala passed uneventfully, while Padmé consciously kept herself from worrying about whether the content of her meeting with Mon Mothma and Bail Organa had been discerned. There was no way to know for sure, she told herself. Until there was, there was no use worrying about it.

That night, as she lay still awake beside him as he slept, Padmé studied her husband's face in profile. Still the same, she thought, but instead of being contained, everything was there right beneath the surface, waiting for a chance to escape. It was like sleeping beside a time bomb, with the countdown in another language entirely.

On a whim, she got up, padding silently through the apartment to the room her children shared. The nightlight had long since been turned off, and both of them were asleep in their cribs. Padmé went to each, stroking Luke's soft hair and smiling and Leia made a little whimpery sound in her sleep and shifted. She pulled the girl's blanket up a bit and went back to bed, slipping under her husband's arm and listening as he got comfortable again, pressing his face into her neck.

That made her smile, and close her eyes. No matter what name he took, there were little things that could not be undone. Her husband wouldn't jeopardize their children, that much Padmé knew for sure.

* * *

Vader kept his eyes closed as he felt his wife settle in again. Feigning sleep was easy enough, especially since Padmé wasn't a Jedi; it was a matter of regulating breathing and moving in certain ways. There were subtle things, minutiae of a performance that yet escaped him, but his wife wasn't looking for a husband that was awake and following her every movement.

Her drop into sleep was easy enough to pinpoint. A shift in breathing rate, a relaxation of tense muscles gave it all away to those who knew what to look for. Vader let out a sigh. He'd been worried for half a moment that she'd arranged some kind of middle-of-the-night meeting with Organa, or someone else that his master had put on the list of those to watch. The spike of fear when they'd spoke of him earlier, the obvious attempts at hiding something from him – he'd been worried.

Now that he thought on it though, Vader reassured himself that Padmé would never do something like that. She loved him, and when they were all together, things were better. His thoughts were clearer, less fogged by the _other_. Things made sense. That last reason, more than anything, more than even his children, was why he needed to make sure she was safe.

Closing his eyes, he settled in for another sleepless night.

* * *

Sidious sat at his desk, hours after the gala had concluded. He slept little, preferring to work alone when he could. There were matters he had to attend to, the development of certain Force attributes that he did not want others around to see. Certainly not Vader. If the other knew that Sidious had precious little knowledge of his own master's methods of creating and immortalizing life, then the Sith wasn't sure that he could hold off the other's rage.

At least, not without a little intervention.

He touched the smooth metal of the device to assure himself it was still there, then got to work. About an hour before dawn, the comm beeped in the pattern signaling a report from the Beta Site. He keyed for the security settings on the door and windows to be activated, then accepted the transmission. "What is it?"

"_We have good news to report, Your Excellency_," the male Kaminoan said, in the slow, deliberate way of the species. Sometimes it grated on Sidious' nerves, but not tonight. Good news from this project was always welcome.

"Proceed."

"_We have achieved successful fusion and produced a stable zygote, with all specified modifications to the genome in place. We took the liberty of implanting it into a surrogate._"

"By all means," Sidious said, suddenly excited. "Which samples were used?"

"_The ones designated K-0327 and T-0811, Your Excellency. The surrogate used is one with latent Force ability, the better to ensure implantation and survival, as well as maximum ability in the resultant offspring. Preliminary assessments indicate this one should be quite talented indeed, though we will be unable to confirm this until removal from the ysalamiri sphere of influence is safe_."

"Excellent," Sidious said, and felt his lips curling up into a smile. "Keep me apprised and continue with the project; I want twelve in total. With no growth acceleration, remember."

"_As you wish_." The transmission ended. Sidious' smile was even broader now. Tonight was proving to be one success after another; first Vader's barely-contained outburst at the gala, and the continued ability of certain officers to impress him, and now this.

Initially, when he had been planning all of this, Sidious had been concerned that he would have to make much more use of his device, that things could not be bent to his will as easily as they had been. It had been a snag in his plans; the device sapped some of the user's life in order to operate properly, and required a great deal of concentration – both things that left him vulnerable. Over time his projections had proved false, and with the discovery of Anakin Skywalker, most of the last of his fears had been put to rest, and all of them had when the boy had proved easy to manipulate and mold into what Sidious wanted him to be. Hungry for praise and a kind of recognition that he hadn't found within the Jedi Order, the boy had come to him, and the rest was, as they said, history.

Unfortunately, Padmé was proving less malleable to his interests. Not only was she resistant to the very idea of what he'd established, she wouldn't _die_. He'd thought that she would surely have perished on Mustafar, a casualty of Kenobi's last-ditch attempt to stop his former student, but she'd survived and continued to confuse an already compromised Vader with her presence. He listened far too much to her, and not enough to his master, in some matters. It would prove troublesome, that much he had foreseen.

It was no matter though, Sidious thought, taking a sip of his tea. Kenobi had still served his purpose even in death, and from a certain point of view, would continue to serve. Padmé, though she'd been maddeningly difficult to rid himself of, had given birth to the twins with all the power of their father and none of his instabilities. Even indirectly she served him... and her children certainly would, when they were old enough. The only remaining Jedi were on the run, in hiding, too frightened to show themselves even to train the children who were arguably the most talented in the history of the Order. When they were old enough, the children would be trained in the powers of the Dark Side, because there were no other choices.

Sidious laughed as he thought of what the upstart woman would think of _that_, and continued on with his work. Running a galaxy was not a task left for long.


End file.
